Smile
by BugzAroc
Summary: "Oh well that's nice to know that next time I visit you in Missouri, there's a chance I'll find your lifeless body." John spat. "I think your a little too young to be going through some mid-life crisis, so what the hell is going on here, Randy?"...Slash?


**Title: **Smile**  
**

**Rating: **M for language

**Summary: **"Oh well that's nice to know that next time I visit you in Missouri, there's a chance I'll find your lifeless body." John spat. "I think your a little too young to be going through some mid-life crisis, so what the hell is going on here, Randy?"

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: So yeah, though I know I should totally be working on the next chapter for Bittersweet Hero and I am, I needed to take a little break. After writing TLC, this idea kind of wormed itself into my head and wouldn't shut up but no it doesn't have anything to do with TLC.  
**

* * *

John couldn't believe it. He'd only been gone for a little while, three months to be exact, but in those three months all hell had broken loose.

After he'd said his good-bye back in November it was with a promise that his good buddy would hold down the fort. That he would keep the rookies in line and keep the coveted WWE championship around his waist until John was ready to come back and reclaim his title. After he'd caught back up with the family and enjoyed some down time to himself.

It's not even funny how far from promised the reality of the situation turned out to be.

Six phone calls including several favors and one or two threats led John to where he was now. Driving 70 mph along some winding snow slush road to a cabin on the edge of the Minnesota and Canadian border. Living all his life in Mass. had pretty much accustomed him to horrible weather conditions, so where the normal person would only have gone 30 or so, John gunned it.

He wasn't even sure if the town had a name but he'd been told only five people lived there at any one time, though it wouldn't do him any good to go looking for any of them. There was so much wood and land up here, a whole civilization could be hiding out and no one would know it. John's business up this here way dealt with a new, outta place sixth occupant.

He took his turn off on the side road that would lead him to the cabin. He wasn't really paying attention to the road, just letting his GPS guide the way. The few places where his car slid on the ice never really registering, pure instinct reminding him not to fight with his wheel, just to let it correct itself or just to slowly let up on the gas pedal. Again, no big deal especially when he had more important issues to think about at the moment, like that phone call he'd gotten from Sam a few days ago.

Three years of what John had thought was a happy and ideal marriage had just been flushed down the drain without any true reason. Sam, through her tears, had told John that Randy had asked for a divorce. It took ten minutes for Sam to convince John this wasn't a joke and then another ten minutes for everything to sink in, but it never really did. John couldn't wrap his head around it, not then and not now. Out of all the times he'd talked to Randy on the phone, the guy had never mention that he was having trouble in paradise. John had assumed that just like his tv persona, Randy was living the good life.

On television the viper was just as bad ass as ever, punting folks left and right, defying authority and all that good shit. Hell, not only did he have the WWE championship but he also had the United States title and was on a winning streak unheard of before. What was the problem then, you ask.

John had to remind himself that all that was fake, scripted down to the very clothing they wore. That exhilarating high Randy experienced after winning every match, that sinister smile he showed off to the cameras and all those in attendance apparently didn't carry over into the locker room. Ted and Ron said the moment Randy was back stage, it was best to stay out of his way. Not because he was pissed off or anything but because his mood could depress even the most determined guy, mainly John.

Randy turned down every offer to go hang out with the rest of the guys, blaming exhaustion or making up some bogus lie about having a skype date with Sam. Ted said he couldn't remember the last time, Randy had talked to Sam, around them at least. Unless the phone call was from his parents or John, Ted claimed Randy would just let it ring. He had certain ring tones set for everyone, so he no longer even had to reach for his phone in the first place. It had gotten to the point where they'd all just gotten used to hearing it for two months basically. That's how they had known something was wrong. The locker room was completely silent one night, no Randy in sight.

Though the snow had stopped earlier it was now back with a vengeance, the wind just as strong, whipping flurries of snow all around the place. Coming to a stop in front of the cabin, John killed the engine but made no move to get out. Checking the display on screen once again, John wondered if he had taken a wrong turn.

The cabin looked more like a shack, its porch was falling apart and all but one of the three windows John could see was boarded over. The depressing picture was made complete by the back drop of night or early morning really and an endless amount of snow covered trees.

Exhaling one last time, the cold making his breath look like smoke, John pushed open his door and stepped out into the small storm.

**Cena's Viper**

The bright lights were what woke Randy.

After a week up here on his own, he'd gotten used to the unusual noises caused by the strong wind. He'd long since stopped getting spooked by the groaning noise the house made as if it was about to collapse in on itself when the wind beat up on its structure. But it was because of this strong wind that he hadn't heard the car's engine though air could nothing to conceal light.

Sitting up carefully, Randy took a moment to fully wake up. He had to piss something awful but figured it would be wise to find out who had decided to pay him a visit at, Randy glanced over at the small alarm clock he'd brought at the small town store upon his arrival, 3 in the fucking morning.

A better question really, was how the hell they'd managed to find him and...why?

It wasn't like he was some great ball of energy or fun lately. His head had hurt like hell majority of every day plus he hardly felt like eating. He only consumed enough to get him through each day, a little extra on those days he knew he would spend half his time in a gym.

Out of everything, the smiles were the worst part, though. He refused to acknowledge the true reason, but that didn't stop him from thinking that all the smiles were wrong. They weren't bright enough, not big enough, or were just the wrong shape all together. Even if it was for the best, Randy couldn't help but miss that sweet ache that had started to come about from a certain smile.

As he heard the creaking of the porch, Randy stood up, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and absently shivering once he removed the sheet from his lap. Since he had no true heat, just the wood stove, Randy had had to stop sleeping in just his boxers or freeze his balls off, literally.

Turning on his bedside lamp, Randy made it to the door just as his unknown guest knocked, yet he hesitated about whether or not he should even answer. It's not like they could see him through the window or something. If he was lucky, they might think he'd moved on but for some reason Randy had the feeling things wouldn't go that way and the last thing he wanted was a kicked in door. Wishing he'd stopped and grabbed his coat, he unlocked the door, mentally bracing himself for the cold and whatever drama that might follow.

"John..."

Whatever Randy had expected, it hadn't been to see the this man. Guess he should have known better though. He'd only told his parents where he was going in the event that something tragic did happen, at least they would know where to look if he never came back around. He should have known that once word got around that he'd gone and disappeared, John would worry regardless of what he said and come looking for him.

"Randy, man...what the hell?"

Ignoring the outburst since he couldn't detect any real heat in the words, Randy did pick up on the slight shivering John's large body decided to partake in though the man couldn't have been out in the cold for more than two minutes tops. Against his will, his mind also picked up on the dimpled smile. To Randy, this smile was perfect in every which way. From its intensity to its size and even the fact that a small part of him noticed and rejoiced when that smile cranked up another couple watts whenever Randy came into the room.

"Hello...Randy ya still with me man?"

Randy snapped back to reality at the sound of John's voice. Feigning a cough, he scratched the back of his head, looking a little apologetic. "Sorry man, spaced out there for a minute. Come on in." He stepped back to let the older man pass, his shivering had noticeably increased.

Randy felt a little weak in the knees, but he was thankful for the closed door he now leaned on as John's cologne rushed his senses, replacing all other smells and taking over. Pleasant but dangerous considering he'd just woken up.

John had quickly made his way into the one room cabin, grateful for the warmth that engulfed him. Spotting the wood stove, he made his way over to it shedding his wet coat and gloves as he went muttering under his breath. "Christ, it's gotta be 30 below or something out there."

Smirking, Randy retrieved more wood, once again sending up a prayer of thanks to whoever stocked the cabin with so much of it. "Probably close, but I thought you super hero's didn't suffer the same as we common folk"

"Oh haha," John retorted, rubbing his hands together trying to create as much friction and heat as possible. "Go fuck off ya cold-blooded bastard" He was grinning like a fool as Randy flipped him the bird. This was what John missed the most between them, this easy banter that could easily seem crude to most others. Though they'd carried on the tradition over the phone, it didn't quite have the same effect or the same quality as it did when in person.

"Oh come on now, John. You should know better than anyone." Randy spoke as he crossed to the other side of the room pulling two water bottles out of his make-shift fridge, really just an old cooler that happened to be in the back of his truck and snow. The white shit had to be good for more than just snow-ball fights, right? "Just because I'm cold-blooded doe-"

"Doesn't mean you like the cold, yeah yeah. You know what the hell I meant." Feeling a lot better, John turned to face Randy, eying the bottles of water with disdain. "Have you looked outside, man? Got anything stronger than that."

For a brief second something dark passed over Randy's face but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Clearing his throat, Randy mumbled, "Nah, I umm...I didn't think that would've been a good idea." Throat suddenly dry, Randy handed John his water before draining half his bottle in one go.

Just like that the mood had changed and if Randy thought that John wouldn't comment on it, it'd been too long since he hung out with the guy. This was after all the only reason he'd caught two flights, one from Mass. to Missouri and then on up here to Minnesota, plus risked his life on the drive from the closest airport on up here. He waited a beat, though, gave Randy a moment to compose himself.

The silence between them was awkward as the younger man did his best to look anywhere but at his friend. He could tell John was staring at him, his expression solemn, his strong jaw line more pronounced this way. John wanted to say something, wanted to ask the question about his sanity but Randy was hoping he wouldn't, was hoping that he'd realize Randy just needed some alone time and he would seek the big guy out to talk when he was ready.

No such luck

"Randy, wha-"

"John, please jus-"

"Oh hell no, Orton." John argued, bringing a stop to whatever bullshit excuse the younger man was trying to come up with. "You've become a fucking recluse, refusing to hang out with the guys, you just skipped two shows plus ignored McMahon's calls and now your holed up in the middle of fucking nowhere all depressed and shit probably on the verge of suicide."

"Oh fuck you" The heat was becoming evident now, the tension starting to grow between them. "If I wanted to commit suicide, I wouldn't have come out here to do it." He stalked over to the bed, flopping down as John placed his hands on his hips, a hardened expression crossing his face.

"Oh well that's nice to know that next time I visit you in Missouri, there's a chance I'll find your lifeless body." John spat. "I think your a little too young to be going through some mid-life fucking crisis, so what the hell is going on here, Randy?"

When the younger man made no effort to respond, John changed tactics. Letting go of an exasperated breath, he pulled out the only dinning chair and sat down on it, the chairs back facing Randy. He never once took his eyes off the other man, his water remaining untouched. "Alright, one question at a time okay." Not waiting for an answer, John decided to go for the big one first. "Why are you getting a divorce?"

Randy's head shot up so fast, whiplash wasn't the only thing he should have been worried about. His face went through a variety of emotions, shock, fear, embarrassment, guilt, frustration then decided to settle on anger. It wasn't at all that unexpected.

"What...how...how the fuck do you know about that."

Holding up his hands in surrender, John said two words. "Sam called"

Randy deflated at that. He could still remember the look on her face when they'd talked. The tears that built up as she laughed at him demanding him to stop his joke. The wet tracks gliding down her cheeks as he stood fast claiming he couldn't give her everything she deserved, how his heart no longer belonged just to her. It hadn't for the whole last year of their marriage, maybe longer.

Add to that the pain he'd felt in his chest not only from causing her heartache but from where her small fists pounded on him screaming why, plus the shame of having to tell Alanna she couldn't go with him when he packed his bags and that no he wasn't coming back. He'd never forget the fit she'd thrown standing there in the doorway with her little Dora bag packed with a few stuffed animals and her favorite bedtime stories as he walked out the door.

"Randy..."

The man that looked up at John wasn't everyone's favorite viper, hell he wasn't even Randy Orton, not the one John had known for the last ten years at least. His cheeks were wet with silent tears, his usual cold grey eyes swimming with way too much emotion, his facial expression that of one who'd just been told his mom had passed on and John could only think of one thing.

"Shit, Randy. You cheated, did-"

"No, no. Hell, fucking no." Randy jumped up shouting, hands fisting at his sides, "Don't you dare accuse me of that shit. Never once did I step out on her. Not when we were dating and sure as hell not once we got married, I just...I...I"

Running out of steam, Randy's body language admitted defeat. He slumped back down to the bed, cradling his face in his hands as he broke down, the first time since that night.

"John, I don't...I don't know what happened, I just..."

"You just fell out of love" John whispered after a moment of silence.

In all their years of friendship, he could only remember Randy ever breaking down two other times. The first time was so long ago he couldn't even remember the reason but the second time happened that PPV night Alanna's fever spiked above 105 F for several hours, despite the doctor's best efforts. He was only her godfather, yet he still felt like his heart was being ripped out with each pained whimper she made, he couldn't even imagine what Randy and Sam had felt like.

John was at a lost about what to do. Though they were close as two peas in a fucking pod he wasn't sure the younger man would welcome let alone condone John offering him comfort.

"Oh to hell with it." John muttered under his breath. What else did he really have to lose at this point?

John moved across the room with an ease that belied his size, not making a sound though it would be impossible for this shack not to have any creaky boards. He dropped down onto the bed next to Randy and wrapped his left arm around the younger man's shoulders bringing his head to rest on John's large chest. He was surprised when he felt arms wrap around his waist but said nothing, just offered silent comfort, slowly rocking his friend.

It wasn't until he'd been sitting there for a couple minutes that John noticed Randy was mumbling something.

"Fail...fail...failure..."

"Bullshit, Randy your far from a failure." John tried kept his voice soft and soothing.

"No, John I'm a failure. I failed as a husband, as a dad...oh god, Alanna..." Choking on his sobs, Randy absently squeezed his arms tighter around John's waist, burying his neck in the older man's neck. "She'll hate for the rest of her life."

John didn't even think about it, just turned his head to lean on Randy's, carding his fingers through the short dark hair Randy had let grow out murmuring all the while. "Not a chance, man. You and Sam will sit down and talk this out when the time is right. She'll eventually realize that while it hurt now, what you asked for was for the best. As for Alanna," He chastely kissed the dark head, smiling as he thought of the little girl in question. "She's young now and doesn't understand everything but she'll come around. Trust me, she will."

Seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour passed before Randy finally calmed down. Though he was still crying, he was no longer having a nervous break down.

"Sor-...Sorry" Randy hiccuped once he felt somewhat normal again. He lifted his head, wiping his face with the sleeve of the thermal shirt he wore. Scooting just a little to his left, he put a small distance between the two of them as he mentally reprimanded himself for crying like a bitch.

"No worries, man. Everything's all good." John grinned giving Randy's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "What are friends for, right?"

"Yeah"

Randy wiped at his eyes again, grateful for the bottle he'd dropped onto the bed as he continued to hiccup. Draining the rest of it, he used the silence to assess himself. He really did feel a little bit better, like a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders though he knew he still had a hell of a shit storm to work through especially concerning McMahon.

Chuckling when Randy winced, John figured he knew what caused that reaction. "Thinking about McMahon, ain't cha?"

Nodding, Randy tossed the bottle into the bin by the table, a good ten feet away. "Yep,...think he'll fire me?"

"Oh no," John full out laughed, the sound tickling it's way up Randy's spine though he tried to ignore it. "That man will have way too much fun punishing you where as firing you would just let you off the hook." As he spoke, John stood up moving over to the counter where he laid his coat and gloves earlier. He only laughed harder when he heard Randy groan and the unmistakable sound of his back hitting the bed. "Suspension, probably, loss of titles, oh hell yes. On the bright side though, at least you'll have me at your side and all my stupid antics to cheer ya up."

"Wait a minute, that's impossible. Your not supposed to be coming back until Wrestlemania" He sat up quickly ignoring the stupid urge to grin like a kid who'd just been given back his favorite toy plus that extra cookie before dinner.

"Eh, I've had my fun, slept in so much till I'm sick of it, destroyed my diet like you wouldn't even believe." John pulled on his right glove, grinning up at Randy. "I guess you could almost say I'm feeling a little homesick."

"Aww, Johnny boy, I think what you really meant to say was that you missed me." This was the Randy Orton John knew. That fucking cocky smirk and smug, self-assured tone, this was the Orton John was used to and okay, yeah he'll admit it, missed like hell.

He flipped his own bird though as he pulled on his left glove with his teeth, "Think that if you want to, man" Making sure he had his keys, he met Randy in the middle of the room, halfway to the door. "Well, I guess I've done my duty as friend. Came up here, made sure you were still alive, provided a good laugh or two and even lent my shoulder for you to cry on. All that being said, I expect you to be joining civilization again within the next few days. Or else next time, I'll be dragging your ass out the door with me, snow storm or not." He ducked at Randy's half-hearted attempt to deck him, laughing right along with the man.

"Yeah, yeah. Your full of shit, Cena."

Randy's laughter died down however as he looked away from those baby blues he loved so much and back behind himself at the cabin. He really didn't want to spend another day in this cold ass place but he knew he wasn't ready to go back home just yet. Nope, he would rather go face McMahon the return home just yet.

"Hey John," He grabbed the older man's arm as he went to walk out the door. It was still snowing despite how he could see the sun trying to peak through the trees. The cold wind bit at his cheeks causing him to shiver standing there in the open doorway."You think that maybe...I mean I'm pretty sure my truck is frozen after spending a week out here in the snow. You think I could catch a ride with you?"

He felt stupid. He knew there was no way in hell John was going to turn him down but he still felt that nervous fluttering in his stomach as he waited for the guy's answer.

"I should make your ass walk, but...hurry the hell up."

Randy released the breath he was holding, barely resisting the urge to kiss those dimples. Shaking his head, he cleared those thoughts before returning the smile as John jumped off the porch to go start the car. He quickly gathered up his clothes, phone and wallet before sitting down to shove his feet in his boots.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to lock the door and replaced the key in the frozen mailbox hanging by the window.

"Hey, Randy"

"Yeah, Jo-...shit, shit shit." If Randy thought the wind had been brutally cold, that was nothing compared to the face full of snow and ice he'd just received. "You jackass, I hate you, you know that right?"

"Oh quit your bitching. You know you love me." John joked as he slipped into the car before Randy could retaliate.

He blamed it on the cold, it was the cold that took his breath away and not the sudden realization of just how much he really did love John. He could try and deny it all he wanted but it still wouldn't change the fact.

Randy Orton was in love with his best friend.

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**A/N2: So, what did ya think?**


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